Rolling Thunder
by spiffytgm
Summary: A one-shot about what Memorial Day means to Stephanie, Ranger, and the Merry Men. Set in Washington, DC. Implied Babe. A lot of tears.


**This weekend is the Memorial Day holiday. This is for Grandpa J, Grandpa F, and Grandpa P. All of them served in WWII. This is also for my Great Uncle Tommy, who lost his life on the beach at Normandy. I seriously debated with myself whether or not to publish this. Hopefully I did the right thing.**

**The Rolling Thunder rally is held every year on the Sunday before Memorial Day. Streets from the Pentagon to the National Mall are closed and an estimated 500,000 motorcycles ride.**

**Arlington National Cemetery requires visitors to park at the visitor's center. If you are attending a funeral, or have a family member interred or memorialized there, the visitor's center will give you a pass that allows you to drive in. Immediate family members are automatically given a permanent pass.**

**Any characters you recognize belong to Janet Evanovich. All mistakes are mine.**

I leaned against the door frame. "Don't get shot."

He kissed me. "Don't go crazy."

The bikes had been brought over to Haywood last week from the garage where they were normally kept. A lot of time and care went into detailing them so that they would be ready for today. The garage was so filled with the gleaming chrome of motorcycles, that all non-essential vehicles had been moved to the off site garage.

Contract workers had been called in so that the men could make this ride. Every year, all Rangeman personnel rode to the Pentagon to participate in the Rolling Thunder run to honor POW/MIA, soldiers who never had the chance to return home. Each of the men rode to honor the people they fought with who were lost. Memorial Day was a solemn occasion, and the air was heavy as Carlos shouldered his pack and became Ranger once again.

I held his hand as the we rode the elevator to the garage. I understood why he didn't want me to ride with him, even if I didn't necessarily agree with him. The men were in the garage securing their gear as morning broke. I gave his hand a final squeeze and said, "Stay safe". He put on his helmet and threw a strong leg over his bike. Almost as one, the men fired up their bikes and roared out of the garage. I watched as they left on their journey, silent tears rolling down my cheeks as I thought of the pain this weekend would bring to each of my Merry Men.

Once they left, I went back to seven and quickly packed my own overnight bag. Val would be arriving shortly. I had told Carlos that I was planning to go with her when he left so that he wouldn't worry about me. She arrived right on time, and I hopped in. It was a short trip to the train station. I got there with plenty of time before my 7:45 departure.

I arrived at Union Station at around 10:15. I figure that if the men aren't already checking in to the hotel, then they are very close. I went downstairs to board the Metro. I was glad I was able to fit my clothes into a backpack, because I would have to change from the red line to the blue line in order to get where I was going.

When I emerged from the station, the sun was high in the sky, and the crowds were already gathering. I found a good vantage point and settled in to wait for the procession to begin.

Rolling Thunder is an appropriate name for this rally. Not only was that the name of a long term campaign during the Vietnam War, but the rumble of motorcycle engines thunder from the distance. As the bikes close in on my location, the rumble becomes a roar. I filmed the entire procession on my cell phone, and used a digital camera I borrowed to shoot some still pictures as well. Once the sound faded in the distance, the crowd started to disperse. I hopped back on the Metro and continued my trip to the hotel.

I was standing at the window overlooking the parking lot when the door opened. I had been watching the bikes gradually fill the parking lot as riders slowly trickled in from a long day on the road. He walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me, inhaling my strength and the scent of my shampoo. I didn't say anything, there was no need.

After Ranger composed himself, he told me, "The guys are meeting in the bar downstairs. You're welcome to join us."

I ran my fingers through his hair. "I don't want to intrude."

He kissed me softly. "I'd say you are just what we need."

After Ranger showered and got dressed, we headed downstairs. The bar was filled with men and women who had ridden today. The atmosphere was one of camaraderie. It made me proud and brought a tear to my eye to see these men and women who stand up for something they believe in. The guys had taken a couple of tables in the back. I was surprised that I was able to walk right up to them without them noticing. This may be the only time I get to do that.

Les had his back to me, so I placed my hand on his shoulder. He jerked around with an angry expression, until he saw that it was me. He stood and pulled me into a hug. He held me tight and softly said, "Hey, Beautiful."

I held him and said "Hey" back. After a minute, he passed me to Tank, and I was given the same treatment. I was passed around the tables without touching the floor until I was set back down next to Ranger. When I sat down, there was already a beer in front of me, and the mood had lightened considerably.

We ordered burgers and sat around talking until they closed the bar. Once Ranger and I got back to our room, we quickly got undressed and into bed. We made love and I held him until we fell asleep.

The next morning, Ranger tried to get me up just as the sky was starting to lighten. "C'mon, Babe, we're burning daylight."

I sat up in bed without opening my eyes. "Go ahead, I already have plans for today." Even though my eyes were closed, I'm pretty sure that Ranger was looking at me with one eyebrow raised. There goes my flash of ESP for the week. "I know you're supposed to check out this morning, but I already called the front desk and extended our stay by one night. I told Tank about my plan, so he's got you covered at Rangeman tomorrow." With that I flopped back down onto the bed and put his pillow over my head.

I felt the bed dip as Ranger sat back down and pulled the pillow off. "When did you talk to Tank about this?" He sounded like he was a little mad.

I opened one eye. "Last night. Now go do your thing, and I'll see you back here later on."

He kissed me one more time, said, "Babe" and left.

When I woke up again later on, the sun was much higher in the sky where it should be. I didn't really have any plans, but I really didn't want to intrude on Ranger's. I took the Metro back into the city and wandered around the monuments and the Smithsonian.

By the time I got back to the room, it was late afternoon, and Ranger was already back. I dropped the bag of t-shirts I got for my nieces on the bed. I washed up and we headed out to have some dinner. I don't know how much Tank told him, but he hasn't asked any questions about my plans.

After dinner, we went back to the hotel and went to bed. As we lay there falling asleep, I turned to Ranger. "I thought you'd want to know more about why I wanted to stay."

He kissed me on top of my head. "Tank said not to worry, and I trust you." I'm glad that he trusts me, even if he did talk to Tank. Who am I kidding, I expected him to ask Tank. I'm still glad that he trusts me.

The next morning we had breakfast and checked out of the hotel. Les and Hal had each brought a spare helmet, so Ranger borrowed Hal's for me. We walked down to the bike and he asked me where we were going. If he was surprised when I told him Arlington National Cemetery, he didn't let it show.

We took the short drive over there, and parked in front of the visitor center. I hopped off the bike and asked Ranger to wait while I went in. Twenty minutes later I came out with a highlighted map and a parking pass. Ranger did the one eyebrow look, but then started the bike back up and we drove through the entrance. It is strangely peaceful driving through the cemetery, even as close as it is to Washington DC. Once we arrived, we got off the bike and left our helmets on the seat. I walked over to the tight rows of markers and sat down in front of the one I was looking for.

Ranger sat next to me, although he didn't know why we were there, yet. Finally I turned to him and let him see the tears in my eyes. He put his arms around me. "Babe?"

I leaned my head on his chest and told him the story. "My mom and grandma used to take me and Val to Arneytown* on Memorial Day. Grandma and Grandpa Plum are there, and so is Grandpa Mazur. Both of my Grandpas served in World War II. One year we came down here for a class trip. Grandma Mazur signed up to be a chaperone, and must have spoken to the teachers before we left New Jersey. When we were in the hotel the night before we were going to tour Arlington, Grandma told me. It turns out that Grandpa Mazur is not really my grandpa.

"He was a pilot during World War II and also did a tour in Korea." I nodded towards the marker in front of us. "He came back stateside when grandma had her baby. He was accepted into the test pilot program, and he, grandma, and their baby moved to California. His plane was lost over the Pacific Ocean and he was officially declared MIA, presumed dead. They found parts of the plane, but his body was never recovered.

"Grandma moved back to New Jersey, so that she could be close to her family. She met Grandpa Mazur when mom was a toddler. They married, and he adopted mom." I traced the letters carved there. "I never knew him. In fact, I didn't even know about him until my fifth grade class trip. They changed the tour around so that Grandma and I could come here and see this. I never met him, but he sacrificed his life for his country. He helped make me the person I am. Every marker around us represents someone's family member who gave their life and will never come home. One thing that Grandma told me, though is that he was so proud to serve his country. He gave his life so that his wife and daughter could be safe. It's important to honor these men and women, and it's important to bring home as many of them as we possibly can."

I sat there and cried while Ranger gently rocked me and pressed kisses into my hair. Once I calmed down, I looked up to see that Ranger had tears in his eyes, too. We sat there and held each other for a long time. Finally, Ranger said to me, "Are you ready to go home?"

I nodded, and we stood to leave. I held his hand while we walked to the bike. Before I put my helmet on, I said, "I wanted you to know that I understand."

Ranger pulled me to him again. "I think he would have been proud of you, Babe."

I held on to him and looked back towards the marker. "I'm proud of him, too."

***Brigadier General William C. Doyle Memorial Cemetery is located in Arneytown, NJ. It is usually just referred to as Arneytown.**


End file.
